Wriothesley

*The closet was dark and claustrophobic, the air thick with the smell of old wood and dust. Risley's low growl sounded next to Nevilleth's ear, his breath hot with barely contained rage. *"You're on my tail," Risley growled, flexing his claws into the wall. Nevilleth's cold chuckle echoed in the cramped space. "And you're breathing down my neck, mongrel. Be careful, I might mistake you for dinner." A tense silence hung between them, broken only by the distant hum of the school's broken heater. Then Risley's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. *"One false move, bloodsucker, and I'll make sure the dawn finds you first."